Red Rose, Blue Rose
by crowprincess14
Summary: All Alfred had wanted was to spend some more time with Arthur. He hadn't expected a long fight for their lives when they visited that dusty old gallery. But they were going to fight their way out together, or not at all. USUK, human names used. Rated T for violence, horror, and safety.
1. Chapter 1

**I develop obsessions rather quickly, don't I? As soon as I finished watching Ib (I'd play it but I'm horrible at video games, sadly) I knew I had to make a Hetalia crossover. With USUK, of course. It won't be the exactly the same as Ib, but the situation will be the similar. The character's reactions, however, will be a bit different. And for the ending I'm using… Well, you'll just have to see. *evil laugh***

**I'll be using human names, just because. They are still countries, however. **

**Warning: Eventual yaoi. Don't like, don't read. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the idea, all rights go to their respective owners. **

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**Red Rose, Blue Rose**

Chapter One

"Iggggy…!" The American whined as he dragged his feet over the sidewalk. "I don't wanna go to some dusty old museum, that's so boring!"

"Some culturing will do you good!" sniffed Arthur in return. "You're always bugging me that you want to see around my country when you visit, and yet you start whining when I actually try to take you somewhere! And don't call me that!"

"That's because I wanted to go to a pub or that rockin' Ferris wheel! Not to look at some boring paintings!" he said, ignoring Arthur's usual rebuke about his nickname.

Arthur gave Alfred a look. "These paintings were done by the recently late Guertena. I doubt even you would find them boring, his stuff has a tendency to be abstract and unusual, to say the least. "

Alfred grinned. "Abstract… Unusual… Hey, it's like your cooking!"

"Shut up, git!"

The pair continued to bicker until they were at the doors of the gallery.

"Now Alfred," Arthur began. "I want you to behave yourself here. No running, no yelling, no touching the exhibits. You will be reflecting me and your country by your behavior in here. So I expect you to act your finest." Under his breath, he added, "Not that I'm expecting much."

Alfred rolled his eyes, a common act whenever Iggy put his lecture voice on. "Yeah, yeah, I get it." As he looked around, his shoulders slumped even further. All the people here looked as dull as the painting themselves. Ugh… All he wanted was to spend more time with Arthur. He hadn't expected to be dragged to some exhibit to an dead artist.

They said he was completely oblivious to how other people felt, but Arthur could be just as clueless. Or stubborn. Or both, Alfred thought with a small chuckle.

The man behind the counter coughed slightly. Alfred started as he realized he had been zoning out of whatever Iggy was trying to say to him. "Oh, um… Yeah, he was a great artist!" He gave him a cheeky smile and laughed.

The Brit massaged his temple. "I was asking if you wanted a pamphlet, idiot." The man behind the counter gave Arthur a sympathetic look, as if to say _Americans. What can you do about 'em? _

"Oh. No thanks, bro. I'm cool with just looking."

Arthur turned back to the man with a snort. "I saw you have the famous painting _The Abyss of the Deep _here. Is that the original, or is it a reproduction for exhibitation? I've recently taken an interest in art restoration, you see, and I've heard art reproduction and restoration are very similar in nature…."

Alfred slipped away as soon as Arthur began talking about the technicalities of art. It sounded way uninteresting and it was too early in the morning to be thinking about scientific stuff. He decided to go to the hallway to his right, where the majority of the people were gathering.

In the center of the room there was a monstrous painting, surrounded by ropes to keep the visitors from touching it. A shiver passed through his spine as he peered at it. It depicted a variety of creatures that must have represented what the fish of the deep sea look like. The biggest was an eel that leered out at, Alfred could have sworn, specifically him.

He leaned forward, trying to read what the caption said. Half of it was blocked by a particularly large woman, so all he could make out was …_Of the Deep. _Huh. There were other paintings and exhibits in the room, but Alfred was so unnerved that he didn't want to stay in the room for another second.

Walking quickly, as not to break Arthur's no running rule, he escaped to the second story of the gallery. Dimly he registered that Arthur was no longer talking to the man behind the counter. _He probably went to got look for me or to the restroom or something. It's not like anything could happen to him here, it was an art gallery for crying out loud! _

There was a few sculptures on the main room of the second floor. Alfred frowned as he tried to puzzle them out. Headless mannequins and a sofa… The latter he could relate to, at least. Boy, what he wouldn't give to sit down on one right now. Unfortunately, the female security guard was giving him a death glare that rivaled Sauron's, so he decided to move on to the paintings hung on the wall.

These were strange and often grotesque. One even pictured a man being hung by his ankle, a prison number pinned onto his shirt. Man, what was with this guy? All paintings didn't have to be dark and horrible! In the next hallway, the paintings were pretty much all of the same nature. Even a seemingly innocent painting of a lady in a red dress gave him the heebie-jeebies. Suddenly, Alfred had a very strong urge to go and find Iggy. And no, it wasn't because he was scared! Uh uh, that wasn't the case.

After passing a bunch of works named after words he didn't understand, Alfred came across a hallway with a lone mural displayed in it, which looked like it had been done in crayon. "….World." he said aloud, again only knowing one of the two words. Curse those British artists and their fancy titles! Couldn't they be called something simple, like "Painting #4"? Now that was something he could understand.

Just as Alfred stepped forward to inspect the mural more closely, the lights went out. A very unheroic cry of terror burst from his lips as he was plunged into darkness. A few seconds later, the lights seemed to reluctantly flicker back on, and some part of him felt embarrassed of his fear. The other half of him, however, felt like he was going to pee his pants. Yep, he was definitely going to, er, go check on Arthur. Yeah, that's what he was going to do. Completely ignoring the rules by now, he sprinted back to where the other visitors were earlier.

Except, they weren't there. Nobody was there. Not even the Lord of Dar-security lady. His brow furrowed. They were here just a second ago, there should still be somebody left in the room. There was no announcement of the gallery closing, either, he was sure of that. _M-Maybe they all just happened to go downstairs or to other rooms. There were more exhibits, right? _Taking the steps two by two, he flew down to the other level.

Then he froze. The man behind the counter was gone as well. An employee would never leave their station unless they were relieved by the next shift of workers. Even in his country, that much was true. Something was horribly wrong.

"Hello…? Anybody here?" No response. "Somebody, please answer me! This isn't funny, stop hiding!" Still, nobody replied. _No no no no no! _

Wandering the empty halls, Alfred felt a growing sense of dread. It was impossible for them to all disappear like that. He had tried the downstairs doors and windows too, and they were locked. That means somebody had to have locked them. Th-Them locking on their own was impossible.

Impossible, impossible! Everything about this situation was impossible! He was going to have to tell Arthur that-

As soon as the thought hit him, he blanched. He'd forgotten all about the smaller man in his terror. But he hadn't seen a trace of Arthur during his entire search either.

That only meant one thing. Arthur had vanished as well.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

_Shit. _That was the word that first popped into Alfred's mind. Then it came again, more frenzied. _Shit shit shit shit shit! _He was alone in the gallery, he was sure of that now. Arthur, Arthur was-

No, no, he mustn't think about it. If he believed hard enough, he would still be there. Right?

"Arthur…?" Alfred hesitatingly called into the silence. "If you're doing this to scare me, this is so not funny, dude." A nervous laugh bubbled over his lips.

The response, of course, was what he dreadingly expected. Nothing, absolutely nothing. _Shiiiiit. _

"ARTHUR!" he desperately screamed. "ANSWER ME! I'M SORRY I CALLED THIS PLACE BORING, OK? J-JUST TELL ME YOU'RE FINE, PLEASE!" Alfred's eyes began to tear up from fear and sorrow. "No…" He couldn't have just vanished like that.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. Deep breath in, deep breath out. _Calm down, Al. There has to be a way to find Iggy and get out of here alive. You just have to stay in control and everything will be fine. If you're blinded by terror, you'll never get out of here. _His heart rate slowed slightly as his rarely reasonable side spoke up. Besides, maybe he missed something in his search. It would be a simple matter to search the gallery again, it wasn't all that big.

Taking one last deep breath, he began to walk back to where the main exhibits were. Yet again, the lights flickered, then went out, already chipping at his courage. Lights flickering usually meant something paranormal going down. Flickering and then _going out_ was a hundred times worse. At least it was in those movies he liked to watch. Whatever, nothing was going to distract him from his goal.

The first order of business was to double check that all those windows were locked. He approached the first two he saw, which were by the reception desk. Upon closer inspection, they were not in fact locked. It looked as if he would be able to open them as a window in his house. However, several attempts proved it impossible.

Dripping with sweat, Alfred took a step away from the window. "Phew," he sighed as he wiped his brow. "It's liked they're jammed or something." Then he stifled a scream as he looked back up. A red fluid was leaking from beneath the window.

Yeah, no. This wasn't happening. No way. Alfred backed away slowly, then turned on his heel and ran up the white marble stairs. Maybe it would be less… Freaky… up there.

A distant sound reached his ears, then grew louder. Alfred's hopes grew brighter and the sound came closer. Footsteps! Somebody was here after all. He wasn't alone! The American, giving off a small whoop, thundered up the remaining stairs to the next level. Ah, finally. This cruel joke was going to be over quickly.

The footsteps were ringing throughout the empty room now. Alfred looked around with a small smile on his face. His own fear seemed so distant now that the horror seemed over. Finally, he located the source of the tattoo of steps. Then he reeled backwards at it fully hit him.

The window! _It was coming from outside the window! _But he was on the second story… No sooner could he think this than the shape of a human being passed outside of the glass. The footsteps faded until they no longer existed. Perhaps they never did. Perhaps it was all a bad dream. But Alfred's senses told him otherwise. If this was a dream, then it was by far the most vivid one he'd ever had.

Alfred realized he was hyperventilating and attempted to sooth himself with this delusion. Soon he'd wake up at Iggy's house and Arthur would be lecturing him about sleeping late. Arthur… He shook his head. He still had to find the grumpy Brit, dream or not. He made a mental note to stay away from windows and took off again.

He passed those weird headless statues and that comfy looking couch again, paying them little heed. They weren't important at the moment. Alfred, after a moment of deliberation, decided to visit that mural again. Something about it drew him towards it. Expecting the worst, he stepped inside. As he expected, something was off. There was blue paint dripping from underneath towards the middle of the childish painting.

He squinted at it, unable to make to find any rhyme or reason to the drippings. After a few moments, he happened to glace at the floor. His heart began to beat faster and faster as the letters put themselves together in his head.

**COME ALFRED**

Now the blue paint formed itself into a message as his eyes were drawn up to it once more. This time, there was no mistaking the message.

**come down below alfred**

** ill show you someplace secret**

Well, this was just _wonderful. _Whatever this thing or things was, it knew his name. And it wanted him downstairs. This day was just getting better and better. Even worse, he had no idea why the thing or things wanted him. It could want to eat him for all he knew.

Alfred gave a futile yell. "I TASTE REALLY BAD, BELIEVE ME! I'VE TRIED!" Yeah, that wouldn't turn away any monster hungry for the blood of an American. Even he wouldn't be deterred by that. Though he was right, he did taste terrible. Funny the things you do when you get bored.

…_Stop stalling, Alfred. _There wasn't any avoiding going downstairs. Not unless he wanted to stay up here for the rest of his life. And seeing as he was a country, it was going to take a very long time for him to die. He'd go crazy up in this room all alone. All alone. Alfred shuddered at the thought.

It wasn't as if he had anything to lose. Besides, it was his only lead to find Arthur. And the people from the gallery, he added as an afterthought. If Iggy was in danger or hurt, there was no way on this earth that he was going to abandon him. All that talk of being hero would be just that if he saved himself. Talk. What would the other nations think of him then? He'd be nothing more than a big mouth, all words and nothing to back it up.

Anyways, there was certain things that he hadn't told Iggy yet. Someday, he wanted to bravery to tell them to him.

Alfred took the stairs slower than he did earlier, still slightly reluctant and fearful. _I'm not a coward. Anybody would be scared in this situation, no matter who it was. _Justifications, justifications, another side of him whispered. _Go away, _he whispered back, not caring about how crazy doing so was. Gosh darn voices in his head, acting like they knew everything and owned the place.

After finding nothing new in the entrance, he walked into the room with the freakish eel painting. With a start, Alfred realized that he was feeling the same tug that he did in the mural room. Except this time it was stronger. Much stronger. As if in a dream, he sleepwalked towards the late painter's masterpiece.

One of the ropes blocking visitors from getting too close was missing. In its place was two footprints, made from the same paint that was leaking from the multicolored mural. Another step brought him directly on top of the prints. _This must be the down below the paint told me about… _Alfred noted dimly.

Before he knew what he was doing, Alfred took another step. He felt weighted down suddenly, as if he had jumped into a swimming pool. He was drowning, drowning, in the hopeless depths of the blue paint. But oddly, he wasn't distressed in the slightest.

His eyelids grew heavy. The darkness was coming on fast now, and there wasn't any escape. So he surrendered himself and knew no more.

* * *

_Lay me down_

_Let the only sound_

_Be the overflow_

_Pockets full of stones_

_Lay me down _

_Let the only sound_

_Be the overflow…_


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm going to try to update at least once a week, but don't hold me to that. I know I should be working on Echos and etc., but honestly, I haven't been feeling it lately. If you're following Echos, I apologize for the ever late updates. But oh well. **

**Reviews make my day, so feel free to critique and comment! **

**Chapter 3**

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_Flashes of color. Red. Blue. Yellow. Paint thrown onto a wall, a canvas. A frantic mutter. "Finish it. I must finish it. There's not much time left." A paintbrush frenziedly being swiped in every direction, making sense to only one person. Then the artist turned and looked at him. "Oh, it's you. Perfect. I needed another player." Not waiting for his consent, a crude figure was brushed onto the mural. "Yes, she'll like this. Two people to keep her company." The paintbrush was dabbed into the red paint. "Red will be your color…" _

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Alfred awoke with a gasp. The words of the artist in his dream echoed in his mind, even as he pushed his glasses up his nose and sat up. _Red will be your color. _That's probably because his favorite color was usually red. Huh, minds think up of the funniest things. Like that one dream before the one with the artist, where he lost Iggy in that freaky gallery. Yeah, he was watching way too many horror movies lately.

Alfred groped around, trying to find a blanket to pull back over his head. His hand met cold tile instead. This jolted him back to reality. The gallery wasn't a dream, after all. Those people, including Arthur, had disappeared, and all that scary stuff had started happening. The last thing he remembered before losing consciousness was being sucked into the painting with the sea monsters in them. _Ugh, this sucks. _

The American stood up, taking in his surroundings. He had been lying in the center of a hallway that was completely blue. The same shade, floor to ceiling. Two paintings hung on one of the walls. They were almost completely identical except for their coloring. One was red, and one was a different shade of blue then the hallway. It opened up to two different areas. By the looks of it, there was no way to get back to the gallery the way he came.

There was only one option. If he kept moving, he'd at least find something out. After a brief game of eenie meenie meinie moe, he choose to head right. A few feet later the decorations on the wall changed from seemingly normal paintings to sloppily written handwriting.

**COME COME COME.**

It was the same as the handwriting in the gallery. Alfred couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Up ahead, the hallway ended in a dead end, but he could tell there was something pushed against the wall. He quickened his pace, anxious to find out what it was and just what it was doing there.

A door! This could be his way out already. _Well, that wasn't that hard. _However, the path to the door was blocked by the object he spotted earlier. Now he could tell it was a type of a stool or a table with a rose vase sitting on top of it. No matter, he could just push it-! He gave a shove, but the stool refused to budge. Strange. The legs weren't even bolted down. Yet, he with unusual strength couldn't make it move in the slightest.

Almost on a whim, Alfred picked the flower out of the vase. Eh, it was pretty. Almost too beautiful to be real. Iggy'd like it, if they were ever reunited. It wouldn't hurt to keep it with him for the time being. Suddenly, he felt more exhausted then he had before he had removed the rose. He leaned against the table to rest himself. To his surprise, the table yielded to his weight, causing it to slide away from the door. How was that even…?

He shook his head. Might as well stop wondering that now. Whatever world he was trapped in now, it wasn't supposed to make sense. If he stopped and pondered everything, he had a feeling that he'd go completely crazy. Alfred opened the bright blue door and stepped inside.

It was a small room, with a painting hung on the opposite wall. It portrayed a lady with her eyes shut and hair seeming to come out of the painting. Er, actually coming out of the painting. Creepy. The only thing that sat on the floor was a blue key. So it wasn't a way out, then. Perhaps, though, the key was going to help him out. He picked it up and pocketed it, making sure to put it in a separate pocket of his jacket than the rose.

Underneath the painting a plaque hung, much like the ones in the gallery. "When the rose wilts, so will you wilt away." Alfred read aloud. Automatically, he pulled out his rose and studied it. It did look a little worse for wear. That would explain why he felt tired the moment he picked it up. It might have nothing to do with this inscription. Alfred decided not to take any chances, though, and resolved to keep the rose safe. This was the last place he wanted to die in.

As he was turning to leave, something moved out of the corner of his eye. The blond haired man immediately whirled around. The painting had opened its eyes and a tongue hung out in practically mockery. Alfred took a shaky breath. Before, the painting hadn't looked serene, but at least it was harmless. The wild look about it now sent shivers down his spine. He turned back around and left as well as he could without tripping over himself.

Back in the hallway, the atmosphere had changed as well as the surroundings. **THIEF THIEF THIEF **the wall seemed to scream at him. Alfred paled. "I-I'm not a thief. A-All I took was a rose and a key. Surely that doesn't count, I need them." The wall was unfaltering in its harsh judgment. The stool had been rearranged as well, now sitting underneath another plaque. _You and the rose are ? Know the weight of your own life. _

Just as he suspected. The rose and his health were somehow related. Out of curiosity, he decided to place the rose in the vase full of water. A blue glow surrounded the red flower, coming up from the water. Then it vanished, leaving the vase drained. Alfred realized with a start that he felt his usual self. So the vases healed him? He supposed it made sense.

There wasn't anything left to see or do in this area, so the American headed back to where he started. Red letters appeared on the floor in front of him as he did so. **THIEF **"I'm not a thief!" he yelled, hoping whatever it was would just leave him alone. He took the passageway to the left once he returned to his waking spot. It wasn't much different than the other end, only this one was shorter. A single painting of a fish hung on the wall next to a blue door. A blue door! Is this what the key was for?

Alfred tried it and heard a satisfying click. Triumphantly, he pushed it open into the next room. This one was even stranger than the last. Completely green this time, it showed different types of insect paintings. A passageway went to his right, while another smaller passageway went straight ahead.

"i'm an ant." A voice near his feet said. It was, in fact, an ant. A talking one, but an ant nonetheless. _Curiouser and curiouser ._

"I love paintings." It continued. "my painting is especially cool. i'd like to see it again, but it's kinda far away…" That probably meant it was at the end of the narrow hallway. Maybe something would happen if he returned the painting to this magical ant. Maybe he would become a prince and show him the way out, even! That would be awesome, he thought as he walked to the narrow passage.

A column with yet another plaque on it blocked his immediate path. "Beware the edges." it read. Alfred swallowed, suddenly feeling less confident. _Come on, be the hero Al._ He forced himself to walk around the column and directly in the center of the hallway.

He'd hardly taken two steps when a black arm shot _out of the wall _and tried to grab him. Alfred forgot his former heroic thoughts and shrieked._ Oh God, why? _He sprinted through the hall, dodging two, three, four more of those demonic wall arms. Hardly glancing at the ant painting, he ripped it off of the wall and ran back to the ant. "HERE, BRO, I FOUND YOUR PAINTING!" he screamed, more scared than angry.

"oh, it's my painting. it's even cooler than i remember it." It seemed to stare at him.

…So no ant prince then. Darn it. Though that would have been too easy, wouldn't it? Yet again, his thoughts wandered back to Arthur. If he was here, then how was he managing this place? Arthur may be stubborn, but he was no longer physically strong. Since neither of them had brought their weapons to the gallery, that left the Brit practically helpless in this place. If Alfred was barely getting through…

A new vigor entered his bones. He needed to find Arthur as fast as he could. This place could only get weirder and more dangerous as it went along. If he rescued him, then Arthur would be really grateful and then he'd-! Alfred stuck the painting under his arm and headed to the right determinedly. After passing a bunch of paintings about the life of a butterfly, he opened the green door sunken into the wall. He was met with disappointment. A large hole in the floor prevented him from getting to the other door in the opposite side of the room.

Suddenly, an idea occurred to him. He laid the ant painting over the hole. It was only just big enough to span it, but it was good enough for Alfred. It was a way to cross. Carefully, he stepped across the canvas and onto solid ground. _Score! _He opened the other door almost enthusiastically. He didn't look back and notice that the ant in the painting was squished as if it were crushed by a boot.

Alfred grinned wider when he saw the green key on the floor. It must go to that door he had barely taken note of when he had taken the ant painting. The only other contents of the room was one of those headless statues from the gallery and a painting of a butterfly getting eaten by a spider. A feeling of fey overtook him. There was nothing to fear in this room. Confidently, he scooped the key up and pocketed it.

A rumbling filled the room. Alfred looked around, eyes widening, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. That was when the statue took a step towards him. In shock, Alfred took a step back. It took another step, then lunged. Pain filled his body as he felt it hit his rose. "AAAAHHHH!" He screamed, turning and dashing back into the room with the hole.

Quickly, he crossed the gapping abyss, ripping the canvas under his feet as he did so. Alfred dove and scampered himself back onto solid ground. The statue tried to chase him, but it stopped at the ripped painting. There was no way for it to cross now. Alfred could have sobbed with relief.

What kinds of horrors did this world still have in store for him?


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry that this is more of a filler, but it had to be done. Next chapter more fun will definitely happen. **

**Also, I have access to a computer again! Yay! I'll try to get back to my weekly updates this weekend. Until then, enjoy the new chapter! **

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**Chapter 4**

After allowing himself to rest for a few moments, Alfred shakily stood himself back up. That headless _thing _was still trying to swipe at him from across the gap, but its arms were just too short to reach the other side. Normally he would have taunted its inability to hurt him. Now, however, the rules of logic didn't exactly make sense. The thing could sprout wings and fly over here any second now for all he knew. That meant it was a bad idea to linger here. He exited back to the room with the ant.

"what happened to my painting?" the tiny insect asked, a hint of anger and confusion in his voice.

Alfred winced. "Sorry little dude, it went towards a good cause." Yeah, saving his life. That was definitely worthy. Not wanting to stay and chat with the ant for fear of getting bitten, he decided to try the green colored key he found out. Nimbly he dodged the black hands that continued to grab for him. Heaven knew what they'd do if they managed to catch him. But he made it to the end safely, so he wouldn't have to find out.

He stuck the key in the keyhole and turned. _Click. _The door opened as he turned the knob. Alfred made a mental note that it looked like keys were the same color of the door they unlocked. That may come in handy later on. It was almost like a video game.

A game… Didn't the man in his dream say that he needed another player? Maybe it all was some sort of game after all. So if he was player 2, then who was player 1? And were there any other players to this twisted amusement? _Arthur, _a hopeful voice in the back of his head whispered. _But there were dozens of people in that gallery. Just because one of them happened to be Arthur doesn't mean this other person is him. What are the odds? _

He hated his logical side sometimes.

With an already weary sigh, he closed the door behind him and looked up at this new room. It was oddly shaped, with two passages going to the right and left of him. Two circles were placed evenly on the opposite wall, a bit higher than his head. A fish shaped indention was a foot or two beneath it on the wall. It almost looked like a giant cat if he squinted hard enough.

Well, his luck seemed pretty decent the last time he went right first. Why not? They'd probably be equally dangerous in their own ways. Carefully avoiding the edges, just in case those hand things were here too, and entered the right passage.

It appeared to be some sort of studio, with mannequins, busts, and boxes lying around without much of a sense of order. A few boxes were lying open. A painting of a red rose hung on one of the walls. No doubt it was exactly like his own. Alfred started rummaging through the open boxes, hoping to find a key buried in the art supplies. The lights flickered unpredictably, leaving him on edge.

The first box he checked was empty. The second was only filled with dirty knife looking objects. There was no sign of anything remotely resembling a key. Alfred swore and straightened up, dusting his jacket off. A sound of stone scraping concrete caused him to freeze. Slowly, he turned around. Was it just him, or was that bust closer than it was a second ago? He took a cautious step closer.

Then it became animate again, somehow scraping itself towards the American quickly even without legs. _Shi-!_ Alfred did the first thing that came into his mind. He ran around the center pile of artwork towards the door. A shattering sound stopped him before he could leave, however. Once again, he whirled around towards the noise.

The bust was lying face down, shattered. It looked like it had slipped on a rag that had been on the floor. Something was lying in the center of the remains. Stepping over whatever the bust was made up of, he bent down and picked the object up. Alfred's eyebrows arched when he recognized the thing. A wooden fish's tail. Suddenly, he remembered the fish indention in the center room. Perhaps this was the second half of a key…?

He stuffed it in his jacket resolutely . The head would have to be in the other room. Put them together and he'd be able to advance to whatever concoction this hellhole could come up with. A new doubt entered his head. None of these rooms appeared to be disturbed before him. What if the artist and his dream were simply that, a dream? He could be completely fooling himself about other people, if not Arthur, being down here with him.

Still, it was the one piece of hope he had. It wouldn't hurt to hold onto it until he was proven wrong. He wasn't one to let himself get dragged down with sorrow and hopelessness for long. Keeping optimistic was sometimes the only way to keep moving forward. Especially with his status as a country. He'd be depressed for the rest of the life if he didn't stay positive.

Alfred was so wrapped up with his self motivation that it took him a moment to realize he was in the other room opposite of the one with the wooden fish tail. A crude stick figure was painted on a column, while the other columns arranged in rows had red curtains hanging across them, hiding something unknown. Then he took a double take. The painting had vanished.

In its place was dripping paint. "Play hide and seek?" Its yellow letters mocked him with an almost childish tone. Buttons in the same sunshiny color had popped up underneath the curtains. Their purpose was clear, now. He frowned. Playing hide and seek was something he did all the time as a kid. Sadly, it wasn't one of his strong suits. He would give up searching after a few minutes and go do something else. Though he was playing against his brother Canada, who was a world champion at the game.

The blonde paced the rows. If he guessed wrong, most likely there would be negative effects. He'd have to guess right the first time if he wanted to stay in full health. But there was no way to tell them apart! They all looked exactly the same, down to the last detail. He'd have to go into this blindly.

After a few more minutes of frustrating examination and pacing, he made a random choice. It was one on the second row, one away from the one closest to the wall. There was as much of a chance with this one as any of the others. He took a deep breath. Then he pressed the button and hoped for the best. The curtains parted…

…And revealed a painted figure identical to the one on the original column. _Score! _

"Found me. You get a prize." read the new splotch of yellow paint. A thud echoed off the walls and columns. It was as if something had fallen onto the hard floor. Alfred ran to the other side of the room, unable to suppress a small elated grin at his success.

A small object was resting beneath a portrait of a fish getting its head cut off. _Seems like something Francis would hang up at his place._ Alfred noted with a chuckle. He picked the object up. Just as he thought, a wooden fish head. With a satisfying click, the two pieces fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. Time to see if that fish indention had a purpose.

Back in the cat room, he faced the indention. Cats weren't really his thing, he noted as he stuck the fish key in. The room began to rumble ominously. The previously black circles narrowed into red slits. A horrifying chorus of feline wails caused Alfred to cover his ears tightly. A passageway opened up where he had inserted the key.

Gulping, he wiped away the tears that had sprung to his eyes at the screeching shrieks. _Beautiful. Just what I needed to boost me up. _Leaving all thoughts of cats and the frightening screams behind, he continued deeper into the labyrinthine gallery.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Alfred closed the door to the red room with a weary sigh. This place seemed never ending. Creepy dolls had hung from the ceiling. A room full of lying paintings had destroyed the one truth speaker. A giant pair of lips had opened into a passageway. A guillotine had risen in a portrait and then nearly crushed him in real life. Nothing could be trusted. Worse yet, the rooms were completely unused. The chances and hopes of finding another person in this place diminished more and more with each room.

And now he was in this place. It was almost like the original gallery that he'd been sucked from. Even some of the exhibits looked the same. Only, the walls and ceiling were blood red. Behind an exhibit wall, a door of a lighter shade stood. No doubt it was locked, like the other doors before it. Though strange, it comforted Alfred to know there was at least a small pattern in this insanity. Now, to find that key.

He started by checking out the exhibits. Some of them were actually pretty cool, like a painting that showed a moving heartbeat and an arrow sticking out of a twisted blue heart. Others were unnerving, like the red and blue statues that resembled people melting. Something was definitely up with the artist who made these. For the life of him, Alfred couldn't remember that guy's name. Too much had happened.

The last painting he checked out was titled _The lady in red_. He was pretty sure he'd seen it before. But something was… off… about this one. Its eyes were gleaming in an almost hungry way. It was almost as if an actual woman were sitting in the frame. Alfred instinctively took a few steps away from the crimson clad woman.

What happened next nearly gave him a heart attack. The woman lunged for him and came halfway _out of the frame. _Growling, she dragged herself towards him, licking her lips with hunger. Alfred was able to glimpse a small key lying behind her. Without time to think, he launched himself over the snarling thing and scooped up the key.

A hand caught the hem of his pants as he did so. Alfred screamed automatically and tore himself from the icy grip. Blindly he ran to the door and jammed the key into the lock. _Go in, come on. _The fact that his hands were shaking like crazy was not helping. After was seemed like an eternity, the lock clicked and the door swung inwards. Not a moment too soon. The lady in red was right behind him with an increased frenzy to her eyes.

He fell inside and shut the door as tight as he could. The thing continued to scratch onto the door for some minutes, then eventually seemed to give up its chase. Heart still pounding from his narrow escape, Alfred walked forward into the small library. The bookshelves came up to his head and were stuffed to the brim with books. Maybe there was some information in one of these books about how to get out of this place. He started pulling them out at random.

The first few bookshelves yielded little results. The only thing of value was a short pamphlet which appeared to be about that woman in the painting that had chased him. _So they can't open doors. I'll have to remember that, I might have to meet them again someday. _There was also a book of works of the artist that had caused him to be dragged into this in the first place. With contempt, he replaced it on the shelf. A slip of paper fell out as he did so.

HAVING FUN?

Alfred crumpled it up in his fist. Whatever had sent this knew exactly what kind of experience that was happening in the hellish gallery.

He pulled out a book that was sticking suspiciously. "Careless Carrie and the …?" Alfred read aloud, not able to pronounce the second part even if he knew what it meant. It appeared as if the book was drawn in crayon. There wasn't a name of the author, as far as he could tell. He began to read.

* * *

"_**I found the keeey!" the girl sang, covered in red fluid. **_

_**The end. **_

* * *

A click sounded somewhere.

Alfred shut the book, disturbed. What sort of child thinks of that sort of story? And with such cheerfulness? And just what sort of person would that child grow up into? Dazed, he opened the other door that he didn't even notice that had unlocked itself.

It was yet another hallway, with two passages on either side. However, there was something of interest in a small alcove. It was a vase and a painting identical to it. The water inside seemed to glow with a blue radiance. The American experimentally dipped his rose into it. Strength flowed back into his bones. Better yet, the water didn't seem diminished in the slightest. That'd be awesome if he could just heal himself whenever he needed to.

Since he had taken the right the first few times, it seemed only fair that he take the left this time. It wasn't like any other logic would apply.

The room to the left didn't seem that interesting at first, just an empty vase and a few signs. …An empty vase?! Jumping up the stairs, he skimmed the signs. They were exactly the same as the ones that were near where he got his bright red rose. His pulse began to quicken. The empty vase and the signs put together only could mean one thing. There was somebody else down here in the same situation as him! It could even be Arthur, that'd be so amazing.

This realization caused a brief victory dance. "Oh yeah, I was right! I'm not alone! Suck it!" Then his manner grew serious. The rest of this room could have more clues, so he had to check everything carefully. He noticed for the first time that there was a red door and a window sticking out of a wall. Alfred ran to it and jiggled the handle, but it was no use. It was locked firmly.

As he moved away to think more on this, he realized that he was stepping on something slippery. He looked down with a sudden feeling of dread. His foot was resting on a blue petal. A blue _rose _petal. They made a trail to the small area that he hadn't noticed earlier. The trail of petals led right to-Alfred's stomach churned-a splotch of blood. Fresh blood, too.

There was also a label hanging on the wall. _The woman in blue. _Suddenly, all of the puzzle pieces came together horribly. _Oh God, please don't let it be Iggy… _Vanishing into thin air was at least safer than getting attacked by one of those things. The owner of the rose had to be extremely hurt with so many petals ripped off of the plant.

There was still no luck opening that door, so Alfred went back to that hallway with the glowing vase in it and tried the other way. Experience told him that both hallways together often helped solve whatever puzzle he was trying to figure out at the time.

As soon as he entered the room, Alfred let out a cry of surprise and horror.

Arthur was crumpled on the ground in front of him. His face was a mask of extreme agony.

"No…" breathed Alfred despairingly.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Without a second thought, Alfred dropped to the ground. "Arthur?! Arthur, can you hear me?" He checked his pulse and uttered a sigh of relief. He was still alive, at least. But that might not be true for much longer by the looks of him.

The wrist that was still in his hands was shaking, along with the rest of his body. His eyes were screwed shut tightly in an obvious grimace of pain. Still wet blood dyed his blonde hair red. Small patches of dried blood were on the ground beneath him, presumably coughed up. A tremor passed through his body, causing it to curl up in an even more fetal position. _He's dying. _Alfred realized, shocking him out of his horror. _How long has he been like this? _

He was going to have to get Arthur's rose back and quickly. But how? That door that the rose petals led to was locked, and it was doubtful that he could break it down, even with his strength. A weak whimper came from Iggy as his whole body gave a violent shudder. Alfred's eyes hardened. There had to be a way, and he was going to find it. Arthur was never going to perish in his hands.

The American took a closer look at him, trying to see if there was anything he could do to ease his suffering. Anything he tried, however, resulted in either a horrible cry of pain or an even worse hacking cough. Despair was slowly creeping in of Alfred. He could hardly touch Arthur without causing him even more pain.

Then he noticed that Arthur was clutching something tightly in his right hand. Gently, he uncurled his fingers and drew the small object out, trying his best to ignore the pained noise uttered by the other man. It was a small red key. A spark of hope kindled in his heart. This key could only be the one that opens the room in the other hallway. Alfred pocketed it, then looked back down at Arthur's pitiful form.

He leaned down and kissed his forehead softly. _Stay strong, Iggy. I'm going to save you. _

With that, the turned and ran back to the locked door.

* * *

He stopped outside of the crimson door, letting himself catch his breath. Alfred would have to be ready for whatever was waiting in there. It had obviously caught Arthur off guard, and he couldn't allow that to happen to himself. He'd probably only have one shot at this, so he'd have to be quick too. Gathering his hands into fists, he slipped into the room.

The room wasn't very big, just a closet almost. There wouldn't be much room to maneuver. A trail of blue petals led to the farthest corner from him, where a monstrous thing was devouring Arthur's rose. Anger burnt through him upon seeing the once beautiful lady. His feet lunged him forward almost of their own will.

"DON'T YOU _DARE _HURT HIM!" He screamed, punching the surprised creature in the face. As if it were a shark he had just hit, the creature appeared to be stunned. Alfred took advantage of its shock and scooped up the rose, holding it to his chest with caution. If all the petals fell off now, it would all be for naught. The thought was unbearable.

The blonde slammed the door behind him, praying that it would hold. If that book in the library was right, they couldn't open doors by themselves. More likely than not, he was in the clear. Without a look back he began to jog towards where Iggy lay. _I have to have made it in time. _A dull _thunk _sounded behind him. Alfred stopped midstride. Slowly, he turned his head and looked over his shoulder.

Then the window besides the door shattered into a million pieces. The monster crashed through it, snarling with renewed rabidness. Its mouth frothed and gnashed as it pulled itself towards the thing that had stolen its tasty meal. Like a sort of Gollum with its ring stolen. A hysterical laugh bubbled from his lips. _Now's not the time to make jokes!_

Once again Alfred found himself wishing for his revolver as he ran. Physical strength was certainly an advantage, but nothing beat the confidence of having a weapon in his hand. Nor the permanent effects of a bullet through a skull. He wouldn't be running like a coward like he was now every time he saw a grotesque painting come to life.

Alfred slammed the door shut for the final time. Thankfully there was no widows in this passageway, or else he'd be completely screwed. Now that the danger had passed, Arthur returned to his mind. He slowly removed the rose from where he was holding it to his chest. It looked even more wilted than it had a few minutes ago. Three measly petals hung from the stalk, barely hanging on. It wasn't going to make another five minutes intact.

Frantically, he looked around for a vase. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted that glowing vase that he had examined when he first came into this hall. After a moment's deliberation, Alfred decided to risk it. There was a chance it would kill the rose and with it its owner, and he'd never forgive himself it that did happen. But there was a chance it would save them both, and it wall all he had. With shaking hands, he lowered the rose into the brilliant water.

For a torturous moment, it seemed like nothing was happening. A soft moan of despair was halfway out of his lips when the drooping petals began to straighten up. As if were on a fast motion nature show, the rose began to grow itself back to normal. Alfred watched, fascinated. The rose shimmered with a gorgeous blue when it finally held itself upright once more. Delicately, he plucked it out of the vase. Time to return this to Arthur.

* * *

As he approached him, he could tell that his skin was already back to a more healthy shade. An even breath, not a ragged one, echoed through the almost empty hall. Alfred sat down next to him and pulled him into his lap, careful to be as gentle as possible. He wrapped an arm around his waist and another underneath his legs, in case he woke up in a panic and lashed out at him.

Arthur stirred. "Mmm." His emerald eyes slowly opened and he rubbed his lids. "What's this? The pain's gone…" He shook his head, confused. Then he seemed to realize he was being held and stiffened. With a sudden movement, he wretched himself away from Alfred and halfway down the hallway.

"I don't have anything else for you to take, I say!" A look of pure panic contorted his face. He held his arms in front of his face in a feeble attempt at self defense.

"Hey, Iggy, it's me! Alfred." He reached out and soothingly pulled him back into his arms. Arthur's face filled with doubt and distrust, but slowly he allowed himself to relax as he continued to stare at Alfred. Secretly, Alfred was glad the Brit was too shocked or distracted to pull out of his arms once more.

"…You called me Iggy." Was it his imagination, or did the corners of Arthur's mouth twitch? "No monster would ever call me that ridiculous nickname." A dark shadow passed over his face. "Unless they're cleverer than I thought."

"Nah, dude, it's really me. The one and only hero!" Alfred gave his usual laugh and cocky grin, causing Arthur to automatically roll his eyes, despite the stress. Then his face grew serious. "But I'm glad I found you. It scared me so bad when you vanished in the gallery like that. And then I woke up here and you were nowhere to be found-!" He shook his head vigorously. "We're together now though." _And we're not going to be separated again. _

Arthur frowned. "Wait, you said I was gone from the gallery? That's strange… Because you were one of the people who vanished from the gallery when I was there. Eventually a painting lured me down to this place. It was creepy, it even knew my name." His large brows furrowed harder. "I woke up in the other room. I had just picked up a blue rose when a painting came to life and…." He trailed off, wincing.

Alfred noted with satisfaction that the wound on his head was also healed entirely. Having a rose as your lifeline had both its perks and pitfalls. "Oh, hey, I got this back for you." With a small flourish, he produced the sapphire rose from his jacket and handed it to Iggy. "You're welcome!"

Arthur took it back hesitatingly, staring up at him. "You got this back from that beast? You could have been hurt or worse trying to do that!" Besides his typical lecture tone, there was a strange hint of emotion in his voice. Gratitude, yes, but also something else. Deep concern was written all over his features.

"I'm not a child anymore. I can handle myself." Just what was he getting at?

"That's not what I meant." Arthur shifted in his arms. "I just… I didn't want you to get hurt, ok? It would be my fault if you did."

"Again, I'm not a little kid. You don't have responsibility for my safety." Alfred had meant to say it reassuringly, but it came out more condescending as he intended. Internally he cursed himself as he saw hurt flash in his eyes.

"If that's the way you feel, then fine. I'll stop worrying about you." He scowled.

Alfred cleared his throat, eager to get the conversation away from his screw up. "Anyways, we should try to find a way out together. I think both of us will go absolutely crazy, er, crazier, if we stay here for long."

Arthur mulled it over. "Very well. You'll get into trouble if I'm not there to stop you." A chuckle slipped from his lips.

"Hey-!" Alfred childishly stuck his tongue out at the older nation. Then they both seemed to realize how close together their faces were at the same time. Arthur quickly pulled himself out of Alfred's arms and stood up. Was it his imagination, or was Arthur blushing?

"Let's go." said Arthur curtly, refusing to meet his eyes. Alfred stood himself up, trying not to blush himself. They began to walk in an awkward silence.

They were approaching a painting that seemed vaguely familiar to Alfred, one with a waging tongue. Maybe he'd seen it earlier in this version of the gallery. As soon as Arthur took a step in front of it, it spewed a toxic looking paint at his feet.

"HYEEEEEEEK!" It took Alfred a moment to realize that it was Arthur who uttered the high pitched shriek. The smaller man threw himself into Alfred's arms, trembling from shock.

Alfred set him down quickly, trying to avoid another awkward moment. "Are you alright?"

Arthur looked sheepish. "I-I was just startled. That's all!" Alfred was doubtful, but Arthur hurried on. "Anyway, let's keep going. And look out for more things like that!" Stubbornly, Arthur resumed his pace.

Alfred sighed. Trapped here with Arthur was going to be interesting, that was for sure.


End file.
